


The Friend Friend Fallacy

by anygay, linnhe



Series: The Friend Friend Fallacy [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Bad Humor, Bromance, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, M/M, they're bros being bros essentially
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21768574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anygay/pseuds/anygay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/linnhe/pseuds/linnhe
Summary: He grabbed onto his toothbrush with his free hand, frowning at the message as it began to dawn on him that this was the first message Johnny had ever privately sent him since they were put in a group together. Why was that? Oh yeah. They weren’t really friends.Well they were friends, but they weren’t likefriendfriends.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Series: The Friend Friend Fallacy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572214
Comments: 12
Kudos: 224





	The Friend Friend Fallacy

Mark got a notification around 2am, which he vaguely remembered reading but had to come back to after five hours of sleep.

When he woke up, he scrolled through his phone for a good minute while brushing his teeth, hitting a gum that must have activated his memory because that was when it seeped back into his mind, along with everything else he had to do that day. A yawn melted his face into a grimace, the toothbrush dangling from where it was stuck in the side of his mouth, as he opened the message Johnny sent him.

**Johnny Suh ; 2:06AM**

_Can you do something for me later?_

He grabbed onto his toothbrush with his free hand, frowning at the message as it began to dawn on him that this was the first message Johnny had ever privately sent him since they were put in a group together. Why was that? Oh yeah. They weren’t really friends.

Well they were friends, but they weren’t like _friend_ friends, the way Hyuck was his _friend_ friend. They were idol friends that interacted more on camera and would sometimes HaHa emoji each other’s messages on group chats.

When he replied with a brief “Sure J” Johnny was calling 30 seconds after, and Mark had to spit before taking his call.

“Hey,” Mark tried, in English so they didn’t have to do the whole formal or informal thing. “What’s up, bro?”

A pause. “Hey, Mark. So what time did you say you were free later?”

That might have stung a little. Mark couldn’t pinpoint why, but suddenly it felt as though there was a formal way to speak to someone in English and Johnny was doing that to him. “Yeah, one sec.” Mark put him on speaker as he sorted through his itinerary on his phone. During the pause, he thought to ask Johnny where he was, just so there wasn’t some weird silence between them.

“I’m out for make up,” he said.

Mark glanced at the 7AM time on his phone and made a small “oyyyy,” that seemingly made Johnny laugh.

“Curse of having 21 members and schedules all day.”

A smile stretched across Mark’s lips, the irrational sting from Johnny’s earlier formalness dissipating. Maybe it was all in his head. “Yeah, totally.” He had two vacant times, about two to two and half hours each, separated into the afternoon going into the evening, and some time before midnight. “Uhm,” Mark double checked to make sure he was reading that right. “Yeah man, I got some time around 4:30?”

“Oh man, that’s perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s for JCC. We’re gonna make passport wallets.”

“Passport wallets?” Mark’s voice might have cracked a bit (it definitely did) when he repeated that, just from the ridiculousness of it all. Especially because Mark was the type to keep his passport in his jacket pocket, or the front compartment of his bag, or somewhere in his bag or whatever. He’d just empty his bag in the airport and dig through the gunk because it was in there somewhere.

He could hear Johnny laugh from the other side of the line. He’d seen Mark in the airport. Was this a dig at his expert passport retrieval skills? At least he never forgot it on the top drawer of his hotel?

“Yeah,” Johnny confirmed, “you down?”

“Sure, yeah. Are you and manager-hyung picking me up?”

“We can do that.”

And after ironing through the finer details and an elongated _ne~_ Mark dropped the phone on his bed and plopped down next to it.

\--

The first time he and Johnny spoke, they didn’t even say hi. Johnny called him Canada and Mark called him Chicago, and from that day on they just sort of existed in each other’s peripheries like backdrops. They weren’t by any means each other’s focal points, but Mark would notice if he wasn’t there. It wasn’t like Johnny was hard to miss to begin with, standing at over six feet and fitting into clothes that seemed to have been stitched around his body.

He was also really fucking funny, Mark noticed over the years, with minimal jealousy. Because he was the kind of funny that didn’t hit you in the face. Like, you had to pay attention. And people usually did.

Mark felt lacking in that department in a lot of ways, thinking that his charm didn’t come natural to him. He had to raise his voice just a tinge higher, had to cute-ify his jokes, had to start them off with a cursory laugh to cue them in like, “did you get that? I made a funny?”

Johnny went for a fist bump when Mark stepped into the car that afternoon and he was already giggling. So fucking stupid.

And then Johnny asked if he wanted to connect to the car speakers via Bluetooth and play something. Mark nodded and smiled, and they both mimicked the automated voice that said that his phone connected to the speakers successfully. It was funny how all of the songs Mark played reminded Johnny of something from back home, like that one time in that party or that other time at the supermarket. Mark started sifting through his playlist even before the current song ended, wanting to see if he could spark another memory.

Then filming started and Mark forgot the time.

\--

**Chicago ; 10:01PM**

_Bro did u have the thing today_

_What was it_

_It was like okra and some kind of paste on it_

Yuta and Doyoung sat between them on the couch, the rest of the members scattered on the floor with bags of chips and half empty soda cans. The TV was the only source inof light the room, playing a B-rated horror movie that Jaehyun said was so bad it was good.

Instead of responding to the text, Mark turned his head to the side and locked his gaze on the curve of Johnny’s neck, who was staring at the screen with confusion scribbled all over his face. His face turned to Mark before his eyes did. When they did, Mark pouted and rubbed his own tummy.

Johnny used his lips to point to the direction of the kitchen, to which Mark delightedly agreed with a thumbs up. Once they’d managed to untangle themselves from a half asleep Yuta and Doyoung, they padded over to the kitchen.

Johnny went straight for the fridge, to see if there was any okra left, Mark assumed. He hoisted himself up the island counter and waited for whatever Johnny was going to retrieve.

The waistband of Johnny’s pajama bottoms had weakened with years of wear and tear, and slid low enough that the bottom of his spine poked from under the hem of his forest green hoodie. Mark had witnessed Johnny drop $450 dollars for a shirt once, but he could never be fucking bothered to replace his house wear.

“Hey, how come you never spring for like a new pajama set or something?”

Johnny straightened up, already munching on a piece of mozzarella, licking the rest off his thumb. “New pajamas are itchy.”

Johnny took out a plastic container of leftover _pajeon_ from breakfast, resting in on the counter next to Mark. While he tore a piece for himself, Mark took a whole one, rolled it, and ate it like a burrito. Johnny whispered something that sounded suspiciously like _gross_ under his breath, but didn’t dare repeat it when Mark asked: “What?” instead, helping to clean the corner of Mark’s mouth with a tissue.

“Don’t yours itch?” Johnny’s gestures suggested that he was referring to Mark’s shorts that he had gotten a couple of weeks ago.

Mark shook his head, looking almost offended, which Johnny thought was hilarious. He pinched the hem, showing the stretch and offering it to Johnny. “See?”

Johnny however, decided that a warm palm up Mark’s thigh was the way to go, going back and forth, the way scientists did it of course, because that was how you properly felt material. Mark swallowed the pajeon with effort, both of them looking at Johnny’s hand.

Or so Mark thought, until he looked up and saw Johnny’s eyes on his, rid of the familiar smirk, replaced by this expression that Mark couldn’t get a full read on. But Mark felt it reflected on his own features, his stare crawling down to Johnny’s lips in accidentally perfect timing, just to see them part slightly.

He didn’t realize how closely Johnny was standing next to him until his thigh touched Mark’s knee. But even then, it barely registered, seeing as every other nerve in his body had ceased to function, except for his left thigh where Johnny’s right palm was. He was cautious, almost questioning, in the way he inched his hand up. Meanwhile, Mark’s mind was blank. He didn’t have answers for Johnny. And although it wasn’t a no, a yes didn’t feel like it sufficed either.

He must have not been getting enough oxygen because by the time Johnny cupped him through his shorts, wearing a small, satisfied smile as he whispered: “You’re hard,” all he could reply was _yeah_ , he was so lightheaded.

Johnny squeezed just enough to get the full shape of him in his hand, and the both of them had their heads down, foreheads connected, breathing labored and out of sync. The friction of Mark’s shorts was uncomfortable under the first few strokes, rough and nothing compared to what Mark was used to when he would jerk himself off with a slicked-up hand.

He rested his temple on Johnny’s shoulder, who was now standing between Mark’s legs, hooking a finger over the waistband of his shorts and tugging. He bit back a laugh at the way Mark hissed when the garter caught the head of his dick, and it sprung back to his stomach. Johnny was definitely bigger than him, he thought, feeling his outline through his ratty pajamas.

He was wrapping his hand around Mark’s cock and thumbing precum over the tip, spreading it as far as he could get it to lessen the friction. It didn’t help much, most of his strokes still dry and rough. And though Mark didn’t say much through his panting, Johnny still gave his hand a deliberate lick, and went back in. 

Marks started to claw at his shoulders then, burying his face in the crook of Johnny’s neck while a string of _hyung, hyung, hyung_ fell from his lips, thick with arousal and desperation.

Johnny pressed his lips to Mark’s ear, saying something that Mark didn't register at the time. Mark only managed to say _I’m_ , the rest of his words expressed in the way his muscles tensed, the way he dug his teeth into Johnny’s shoulder.

As soon as Mark could catch his breath, he let go of Johnny and looked at his hyung’s sticky hand, throwing him a regretful look they didn't have time to address.

His clean hand tore more tissues from the same roll he'd used to wipe Mark’s mouth clean, and began to clean them up. Utterly unaffected, as though lightning hadn’t just struck them both.

Mark watched him, a little dumbfounded, not allowing his brain to replay what had happened just yet, not in front of Johnny, not while he was wiping his thighs down, and the area around his dick.

Doyoung walked in while Mark was cleaning his forgotten pajeon off the floor and Johnny was washing his hands, blind to the tension as he prepared a glass of water from himself. He talked about the movie that was still playing, as he took the island counter space that Mark had just occupied seconds ago.

Mark nodded deftly while Johnny engaged in an actual conversation. He snuck a glance while he was storing the rest of the untouched leftovers in the fridge, and it was like a switch had flipped. Johnny was back, all bright smiles and sarcasm.

He excused himself not long after that, going straight to the bathroom to take a shower.

\--

Mark couldn’t sleep. It was made worse by the fact that his roommate, Hyuck, never slept. In fact, Hyuck had gotten into his usual position; pillow standing up against the headboard to support his back and neck, two by his sides for his elbows, laptop on his lap. And there he would remain for the next few hours. 

“What,” Hyuck snapped when Mark just kept staring at him. 

“What?”

“Did you need something?”

Mark rolled his eyes and looked away, kicking the covers because he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand any of it, not the lights, not the way Hyuck breathed (was it always this loud?), not the way the shower didn’t calm how warm his skin felt. 

Most of all, he just realized what Johnny said, with his lips pressed to the shell of his ear earlier that night. Johnny called him _fucking cute_.

Right? That was what he said. He said it so low in the heat of the moment, like it was being dragged out from the base of his throat. He said it while Mark was close, mouth open, yet trapping any sound from escaping because that was how he had been used to doing it, living in a dorm with other people for as long as he could remember. 

Groaning, Mark rolled on his stomach when he felt that all the way down to his cock.

“The bathroom might be free.”

Mark darted a glance at Hyuck, heart pounding.

“What?”

Hyuck gave him a look from head to toe. “Coz of your stomach?”

Oh, thank fuck. “Oh, yeah, no I think—actually, I probably should—“ Mark adjusted his shorts and walked out of the room, clearing his throat as he closed the door behind him.

\--

Mark soon found out during the coming days that there were much worse things than remembering how Johnny called him cute.

A comment, mind you, that he’d read and heard said to him countless times before. But nothing really compares to hearing it from a guy who has his hand down your pants.

No, the worst part was everything else that involved Johnny after that.

Because nothing outwardly changed for his friend. He was still the first to laugh when Mark made a joke, he didn’t ignore him, didn’t make things weird – it was like Mark hallucinated the entire thing. For the next few days, Mark tortured himself by hanging onto every little fucking thing Johnny would do or say, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

Like if he didn’t sit next to him in the van, Mark would think _Ah, so it is weird_.

But Johnny would stand next to him during the filming for the variety that day, and he would sling his arm around Mark’s shoulders, and sneakily share his observations with the other in the same fashion they used to. Then he’d recommend a drink to him from the vending machine, and while Mark should have said _Is there milk in that though_ , instead he said, “Yeah, okay. I’ll try it.”

Johnny’s finger paused right before he hit the button. He turned to Mark and said, “But this has milk though.” He didn’t have to rake his fingers through his hair as he mentioned one of Mark’s greatest enemies.

But because he did, Mark imagined that he looked kind of dumb, just nodding as a response.

“Mark?”

“Huh?”

“Dude,” Johnny smirked, the word sounding breathy. “You just spaced out for a second there.”

Mark furrowed his brows, hands on his hips because this was… powerful? To stand that way? “Oh, uh, I… I… uhm…”

Mark didn’t have a reply prepared and that was painfully obvious to the both of them. But then Johnny just stood there instead of interrupting him or walking off. He gave Mark’s body a look, from his hands on his hips to somewhere between that, then back up to his face, amused.

And wait, “uh…. Uh….” Mark was still— “I just… I….” –talking?

“Mark,” Johnny said it so quietly that if he wasn’t staring at his lips, he would have thought that he imagined it. “Breathe.”

Mark exhaled, deflating as each knob of his spine felt like it was being wrapped in electricity. It was just—it was hot, like around his neck and his chest, and he somehow forgot what it was like to breathe through his nose.

He must have looked ill. Because Johnny was looking at him with deep concern. “Are you okay?”

_No_ , Mark mouthed, giving Johnny a look that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

And Mark had never really been pushed against the door of a cubicle bathroom before, but if all of it was anything like the way Johnny did it, he was missing out.

He couldn’t keep Mark up the whole time though. For one, Johnny was too tall that it hurt Mark’s arms to lock around his neck the entire time they were making out. Two, his thighs kept slipping from Johnny’s grasp. But the few seconds where Johnny had him pinned, and he pressed his stomach to Mark’s crotch, those were well worth it to keep trying. So they did for a few minutes, just grasping at each other in awkward choreography, Mark’s tongue meeting Johnny’s with much more enthusiasm.

Mark started feeling like he wasn’t sure if he was gasping from being so turned on or from getting the wind knocked out of him the first time and the constant moving since. Somewhere in the haze of hips grinding and Johnny pulling at Mark’s hair to tilt his head back, they both sort of came to, chests rising and falling, both looking a little dazed.

Johnny walked back until his calves hit the toilet, pulling the seat down so that he could sit. He hand both hands curled over his knees, breathing like he had just run a marathon. Meanwhile, Mark still had his back to the door, mirroring the hands on the knees, doubled over himself.

And when they’re gazes locked, there was a moment where it all just stopped and everything was still.

Both their laughter ripped through the silence, bouncing off the tiles, Mark falling to his knees, muffling his laughter on Johnny’s jeans. When they’d calmed down, Mark’s eyes were rimmed with tears from laughing too hard. Before Johnny could wipe them with his sleeve, Mark did it with his own, already getting up, cheeks and neck a little pink.

“We should get back, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Johnny linked his index finger with Mark’s pinky, not having to tug that hard to get Mark to walk closer to him. With his hands on the back of Mark’s thighs, he looked up at him, asking: “Can I see you later, though?”

Mark smiled with his nose scrunched up, placing his hands on Johnny’s shoulders. “Yeah, man. Text me.”

\--

Johnny didn't play the hyung card often. This was probably why when he did, people just bent over backwards for him, as was the case with Hyuck who gave zero protests when Johnny said that he wanted to switch rooms for the night.

And when he walked through the door with his own pillows, Mark jumped out of his bed and ran across the room while chanting “hol’ on, hol’ on, hol’ on” and Johnny understood what he wanted. He probably wanted Johnny to stay by the door with his eyes closed as he waited.

But just because Johnny understood Mark, didn’t mean he had to follow him. So he proceeded to Mark’s bed, knee-walking to the center and sitting on his haunches as he watched Mark pull out a candle from his desk drawer, placing it on the desk and lighting it.

He threw Johnny an expectant look, which Johnny met with exaggerated excitement. “What’s goin’ on, Mark, buddy, dude?”

“I lit a candle,” Mark beamed, one of the most heartbreaking smiles Johnny had ever laid eyes on, and pointed at said candle. “Romance.”

Johnny looked at the candle, then at Mark. Then back at the single fucking tealight candle. Then at Mark and his stupid fucking grin that could compete with the sun’s brightness.

For that, Johnny doesn’t tell Mark that no, it’s not even one candle. It’s a tealight candle. That’s a 16th of a candle. Instead he tells Mark to kiss him, which the other gladly does.

Once he has Mark naked besides him, he traces a hand from his shoulder to his hip, mapping him out with concentration. The tealight is the only source of light Mark hasn't killed, his frame accented by small valleys of darkness.

Johnny touches the shade below his cheekbone, below his collar bone, the freckle on the side of Mark's neck.

"Your eyes are shining," Mark observes quietly.

"That's just the candle light. Which, by the way. Get a real candle, bro. One of those nice ones, the scented ones?"

Mark nods, clearly not listening to a word coming out of Johnny's mouth. He closes his eyes and leans in, and just for a second Johnny considers leaving him hanging, just because it's funny when Mark gets upset.

Mark sighs when he's kissed, a noise less than a whisper. He's so quiet when doing this, Johnny has already observed. He wants more reaction, but at the same time it seems fitting that one of the most energetic members would sink away into silence when being touched. It's cute.

He reaches for Mark's dick, wanting to feel its weight and warmth in his palm again, but he's stopped right before he can close his fingers around it.

"Wait," Mark instructs, leaning away from him, trying to grab something from his nightstand without actually turning away from Johnny. The whole length of Mark's torso is being offered up to him in this position, and it's more than he can resist. He ducks his head to mouth at his ribs, and Mark bites back a high-pitched sound, his hand coming down to smack at Johnny's head.

"Dude, _don't_. You know I'm ticklish and like, I'm not trying to wake up anyone else."

Johnny only tries to sneak a kiss on a ticklish area two more times - "Bro!" - rolling his lips into his mouth to suppress a smile.

A bottle of lotion is pressed into his hand, and he raises an eyebrow. "Is this what you like?"

"Hmm~," Mark hums, pressing closer to Johnny so he can hide his face against the juncture of his neck.

Johnny is still wearing his ratty pyjamas, and Mark plays with the edge of the worn fabric, his lips brushing against Johnny's skin. He's not even trying to engage. All he's doing is patiently breathing him in, the brush of his lips barely there. It makes Johnny's toes curl with desire.

_Am I in trouble here_ , Johnny thinks, before he's coating his palm with lotion and not thinking much at all anymore. Mark is quiet but painfully responsive under his hands, just like he was in the kitchen.

It takes barely five minutes to make Mark come undone, even faster than before, his breathing erratic as he presses closer. One of his hands is squeezing Johnny's upper arm with full strength - that's going to leave an interesting bruise. He grits out another _hyung_ as he comes, a word usually rarely used between them.

"Hm? Yes, baby bro?" Johnny hums in response, his hand still wrapped around Mark. His guess is rewarded with a small jolt that goes through Mark's hips, and he grins. "There's a lot of things you like, huh. Are you usually this quick?"

"No," Mark admits, and although Johnny can't see his embarrassment in this low light, he can hear it. "Only when I'm with you... honestly, it takes me forever when I'm doing it? I only started using lotion because I was beginning to chafe."

"Probably cause you're overthinking it," Johnny supplies, bringing up his hand to look at the come coating it. It's barely visible, but he can feel it unpleasantly cooling off. "Some things, you just gotta do, without thinking about them too much."

Mark is pliant when Johnny pushes his fingers into his mouth. It can't taste great, with the lotion still in the mix, but he opens up willingly and doesn't need to be told to suck. It's Johnny's turn to go hazy, losing himself in feeling of being pulled deeper into Mark's mouth. He's going slow, the edge of his neediness gone, his tongue languidly swirling against the bottom of Johnny's fingers.

It's like he's being sucked off, and he moans accordingly. He keeps it low, so Mark won't freak out about being heard. But the effect is undeniable, Mark bolstered in his enthusiasm. His hand slides into Johnny's shorts, hand encasing his erection.

It's the first time a guy has touched him there, and Johnny is surprised by how not-weird it feels. It's nice, just like it was nice when his high school girlfriends did this. He thinks it would be even nicer if he could get Mark's mouth on him, but it feels like too big of an ask.

Johnny takes a while, mostly because he wants it to take a while. The angle gets uncomfortable eventually, Mark's range of motion limited because his lower arm is trapped by Johnny's waistband, so he pushes his shorts down his thighs, baring himself just enough. This elicits a sound of desire from Mark that goes straight to his dick.

"You smell good," Mark sighs. He sounds kinda wrecked.

"Yeah?" Johnny asks, grabbing Mark's hand to guide him back to his length, encouraging him to squeeze tighter than before.

"Yeah... like... like you. Soap, cologne, but also you. Fuck, it's heady."

Johnny isn't listening anymore, rather, enjoying the affected timbre of Mark's words as he fucks up into Mark's grip. His mouth finds Johnny's neck again, and Johnny can feel the slow bruise being sucked onto his skin. The sheer possessiveness of the act; Johnny isn't thinking at all anymore. His only thought is that he wants Mark's mouth all over him.

"You're so sexy," Mark says lowly, his voice laced with desire. Johnny finally comes undone at that, panting harshly as he feels his dick twitch in Mark's palm, forcing out load after load. It's been a while and he's a young man, so it gets everywhere. He can feel one strand land across the bottom of his jaw.

After twenty whole seconds of this, Mark laughs quietly, stunned.

"Bro. You... you came _a lot_."

"Yeah," Johnny says sheepishly. "It's like that, sometimes. I think it's because I'm so big." He means tall and broad. But at the sight of Mark's expression, he realizes it sounds like he's bragging about the size of his dick.

"Easy, tiger," Mark laughs, leaning back a little. He hisses when he realizes his entire chest is coated in Johnny's release. "Seriously, what the-"

"Shower?" Johnny offers as he pulls his shorts back up. He's trying to sound remorseful, but all he musters is pride.

"Yeah, no. That bathroom is cold as fuck this time of year, and I'm not walking around like this. Just clean me off with something, uh," and he grabs the edge of his sheets and starts rubbing at his chest. It's just moving it around, if anything, the sheets too synthetic a fabric to absorb. It's gross to watch, and yet enthralling.

"Here, let me," Johnny offers after a few seconds, pushing Mark's arms apart and using his tatty sleeve to clean him up. Mark tries for a protest but then just lies back against his pillow, looking like he's pleased to be taken care of. Something in Johnny's chest feels oddly tight.

"You really should go shower," Johnny points out when he's done. The worn fabric has absorbed a lot, but Mark is still sticky. And he's sure he's missed some, due to the limited light.

"No," Mark supplies, getting up to put his underwear back on. Then he guides Johnny to take off his dirtied hoodie, and leans over and blows out the candle. Johnny hadn't realized how hot he'd gotten inside of his hoodie, until it's off, and he's shivering because of the unexpected coolness of the air.

But then Mark's warm form is pressing up against him, and his arm is being tugged down to serve as a pillow.

They've slept this close before, maybe not together but certainly with other members in cramped hotel rooms. There's an ease in Mark's actions that makes Johnny feel comfortable, despite the fact that they're both naked from the waist up.

"G'night," Mark mutters, already sounding half-asleep. Johnny pulls the sheet up to cover them both, but doesn't fall asleep for another hour, listening to Mark's steady breathing in the darkness.

And somewhere between one and two in the morning, while Mark sleeps, Johnny sends him a text explaining why he just threw all of Mark’s tealight candles out before going back to sleep.

\--

Later on, Johnny isn't sure why he agreed to getting a room. Maybe it's because Mark has learned what makes him tick, over the year they've been giving each other sporadic handjobs. He'll be laughing hard at a joke cracked by the group, same as always, but then catch Johnny's eye just so. His whole body still in the conversation, mouth wide, all as it should be. Except for that second-long glance thrown his way.

Johnny has learned to read all of those looks, to his own detriment.

_I want you. I wish you were touching me_ , is what those eyes say. Not in a hungry or demanding way. A calm truth between them.

Those same sentences are repeated later, but directly into his ear, as he's crowding Mark against his shower wall. _Hyung, touch me_ , followed by nips to his earlobe, and Mark's length grinding against Johnny's broad thigh. It's 10AM and Donghyuck - who is Johnny's roommate now - has only just fallen asleep. He's going to be out for at least another six hours, but it doesn't lessen Johnny's nerves.

It used to matter to him less, if they'd get caught. It was just guys messing around then, and he wouldn't have felt that embarrassed, because none of them were above their impulses. God knows he'd walked in on an embarrassing situation or two before. Like that time with Taeil and Taeyong - which Taeyong had tried to play off as European breathing exercises but had really just looked like tipsy kissing to Johnny. He didn't question them on it though, and didn't mention it to anyone. Because Johnny understands and respects the bro code.

But nowadays, everything about Mark seems to leave him jittery. He doesn't want anyone to know how affected he is, when Mark tilts his face towards him, silently asking to be kissed. The hot water has been running for a while, and it makes it harder to breathe as he clashes his mouth against Mark's, the humid air not providing him with enough oxygen.

Mark's body is wiry underneath Johnny's calloused palms, pushed to its limit by the relentless schedules. There's no more softness to him anywhere; his cheekbones and shoulders and narrow hips equally sharp, and Johnny realizes he's no longer kissing the same boy he was a year ago. This is a man, pressing into him. A beautiful one, who moves with certainty.

"I want you in a bed," Mark whispers. He's still quiet as ever, but the shyness is gone, replaced with a year's worth of assurances that he's Johnny's weakness. His gaze is steady as he looks up into Johnny's eyes. "Want to take my time with you."

Johnny's breath leaves him in a stutter. There's no place in their dorm that is particularly compelling. Hyuck doesn't let himself get kicked out of his room as easily as he once did, and Johnny could force the matter, but they're already being suspicious right now. He's not trying to push this to a premature end, not before he's had his fill of this thing between them.

"I'll book us a motel room," Johnny promises, and shuts Mark up with his mouth and his hand.

\--

**My Mark ; 02:42PM**

_Did you book the room yet?_

Johnny texts back "fuck off" and then "yes" a couple of minutes later.

\--

Getting a room and Mark in it is so easy, Johnny doesn't understand why this is the first time they've tried it. They pull off their masks and beanies, smiles bright as they look at each other in shock.

"Bro, we pulled that off so-!"

"They didn't even-!"

And then Mark has jumped up into his embrace and he forgets what else he was going to say, stumbling back onto the oval-shaped bed with his arms and his heart full. They fall together, and maybe an elbow connects unpleasantly with a rib, but neither mention it.

The sheets are silky against the back of Johnny's head, Mark looking at him intently as he pushes his hair away from his face.

"Can I suck it?" he asks unceremoniously, and Johnny can't hold back a snort, his eyes going into little half-moons. "Jeez," Mark mutters at that, looking a little offended.

"Yeah, you can," Johnny says generously, reaching down to unzip. Mark wiggles his eyebrows at him, which is not sexy, and then disappears from sight. Johnny breathes in sharply when he feels Mark's hand sliding into his underwear and pulling him free.

A comment floats up towards him, and his brain takes its time deciphering it. "You're always hard from the get-go. Like, always."

"It's because of you, dumbass," Johnny mutters, covering his face with his hands. Oh, why did he agree to this? A thousand times he's thought of Mark's mouth on him, but now that it's actually about to happen, he's not so sure he can deal with it.

He feels Mark's breath against the tip of him, and then his tongue. It's gentle, barely there. And then he's being _licked_ , and he digs his fingers into the synthetic bedding, moaning as he pushes his hips up. Mark moans in response, openly, and Johnny is instantly certain this is too much. He's rarely heard the other vocalise anything before.

"You're- you made a sound," Johnny says dumbly, still aimlessly moving his hips.

"It's just us here," Mark points out from down below, and then he sinks his mouth over Johnny.

It's not that good, both their inexperience ruining the rhythm and the mood. Mark's breathing becomes hard as he fights to fit all of Johnny, and his teeth graze him every time Johnny moves his hips.

When Johnny starts wilting fifteen minutes in, and leans up on his elbows, he can see just how much the younger is struggling. It's not like the time when his last girlfriend had sucked him off under the bleachers, which had required zero participation from Johnny - he had also lasted only about two minutes that time, so she probably didn't have the time to get this tired.

Mark looks flushed in an unhappy way, his fringe stuck to his forehead. "My jaw hurts," he admits, sitting back. He massages it, looking miserable. "This isn't going the way I pictured it."

"Yeah," Johnny agrees, which causes Mark to deflate further. "Shut up, I didn't mean it that way," he adds, holding out a hand.

He kisses Mark once he has him in his arms, smiling when he tastes himself. It's not a good taste, but just the fact that he was in there, in that cute mouth.

"Let's just do what we always do," Johnny offers, already tugging at the buttons of Mark's jeans, "since we already know how."

They jerk each other off, sharing breaths and kisses. Johnny doesn't hold back on his moans, every time Mark gets him closer with an expert tug, and all of them are rewarded with a little sound in return. More than his own, Mark seems to be responding to his pleasure. It's so hot, Johnny thinks. He wants to hear more of Mark's sounds. If this is going to be the only time he gets to hear them, he wants a chance to commit them all to memory.

He comes first, clasping a hand over the tip of his dick so he doesn't ruin both their outfits. He wipes the contents of his hand on the sheets once he's done coming, and has caught his breath.

Mark has pressed himself up against him, wearing a stupid grin that says _still got it_ . He laughs when he's pinned to the bed by Johnny, but the sound dies in his chest when he's taken into Johnny's mouth.

"Oh- oh, wait, I-" Mark stutters, but his hands are forming fists in Johnny's hair, guiding him further down.

Mark has a pretty dick, a light shade of brown and average sized. It's not hard to take him all in, and Johnny sucks gently, slowly hollowing out his cheeks. "Jesus Christ," Mark mutters, bucking up into his mouth, "oh, fuck... _Fuck_... this is-"

He doesn't get to find out what Mark thinks this is, the other's release filling up his mouth in warm bursts. A frisson of excitement rushes up his spine, shocked over what just happened. He feels so slutty, but in a weirdly good way?

Mark is on him then, face bright red, trying to pry Johnny's jaw apart with his thumb. "Show it to me. Please? I wanna see."

Johnny looks into his eyes while he lets his jaw hang slack, showing off the come in his mouth.

"You're-" Mark tries, swallowing harshly. He looks out of his mind. "It's so hot," he says helplessly, and Johnny nearly chokes when he has to hold back a laugh in response. He spits everything on the sheets, which Mark rewards with a small sound of disappointment.

"Swallow it next time," he demands, and Johnny can only nod as he's kissed.

\--

Mark doesn't get much better at giving head, but Johnny does. He'll admit he has the easier job, Mark's dick the perfect length for his mouth. He also has the advantage of having any amount of patience when it comes to their moments together.

Their trysts have been increasing in frequency, a sudden hunger that's originating entirely with Mark, and he can't imagine Donghyuck is still ignorant at this point. But he seems to understand what should be left unsaid, because all he does is give Johnny a pointed look whenever Mark walks into their bedroom, and immediately leaves again when he realizes Hyuck is in there too. It doesn't help that Mark never finds a fresh excuse, perpetually muttering something about how he's looking for his guitar.

He hasn't seen Mark all day today, though. Nor received a text. It's unusual. And distracting.

"You wanna finish this game?" Donghyuck asks, pointing to the round of Overwatch on their screens.

"Not really," Johnny admits, scratching at his cheek. He hasn't shaved yet today, might not do it at all now that he thinks about it. He doesn't have another schedule until tomorrow.

"Just as well," Hyuck sighs, letting the timer run out, "I have to head out soon, we're recording _Coming Home_ today."

"Is Woo joining in on that?"

Donghyuck gets up from his gaming chair, groaning as he stretches out his arms above him. "No. Management approved it, but the doctor ended up advising against it."

"Where is he?" He'd been seeing Jungwoo in the dorm occasionally, wandering the halls, looking exhausted.

"Asleep in his room, I think? Or, I don't know. He might've gone home for the weekend."

Johnny nods absent-mindedly, staring at his laptop for a few seconds before slamming it shut. He needs to take Jungwoo out for coffee some time. Pick his brain. It had been a while since they'd spent some quality time together.

He finds Mark piled onto Yuta in the living room. They're watching an anime that's suspiciously erotic sounding, but both Yuta and Mark are stone-faced.

"Hey, long time no see," Yuta says with a wave and a barely there accent, patting the couch. "Come keep Mark company, I'm about to head out."

"Everyone's leaving," Johnny whines. It makes him feel useless, the only one without a schedule.

"And what am I, dust?" Mark asks, but there's no bite to his question. He's still watching the anime, but his eyes are glazed over in disinterest.

When everyone has piled out and their dorm room auntie has finished washing the dishes and bowed goodbye to them, it takes Mark all of thirty seconds before he's straddling Johnny, kissing him as hard as he can.

"Hmn!" Johnny says, his hands coming up to grab Mark's shoulders and steady him. "Yo, what's gotten into you lately?" he asks breathlessly, switching to English now that it's just the two of them.

"I don't know," Mark admits, pressing closer, his breathing already uneven, "I think about your mouth all the time? Like seriously all the time? Just- kiss me."

Throughout the year, Johnny had felt he was the more invested one. It made him feel a little insecure, and kind of needy. He hadn't given in to that impulse, but now Mark seemed to be going through the same phase, only he was giving in to the impulse _hard_. Johnny wonders why he hadn't done that to begin with. This is fun.

He lets go, lets his guard down for once, and kisses and touches Mark exactly like he wants to; allowing his hands to roam, sliding a hand underneath his t-shirt and over his warm chest, pinching the nub of a nipple. Mark is responsive the way he was that night in the candle light, their weirdly romantic night, which they'd never repeated.

They'd gotten a little mechanical as they'd kept at it over the months, mostly focusing on getting to an orgasm as quickly as possible. For the first time, Johnny wonders if his joke with the candles had damaged something that night, had discouraged something he didn't mean to discourage.

"Johnny," Mark breathes into his mouth, all need. He's rutting into him, brows knotted in concentration.

"Baby bro," Johnny replies softly, squeezing Mark's butt, and Mark moans loudly in response. He'd forgotten all about this weakness the other has for being called on rank, and he'd wasted a full year not taking advantage of it. What a fool he's been? Blood is rushing in his ears, and in this moment, nothing exists besides the person in his lap. His band member, his _friend_ , his-

A throat is cleared next to the couch, and Johnny thinks _this is how I die_ , clutching at chest as his heart rate shoots up even further in sheer panic. Mark falls off the couch altogether, with an undignified yelp.

Taeyong is standing right there besides them, giving them both a long-suffering look.

"European breathing exercises?" Johnny tries, and goes weak all over when he's overtaken by a stupid giggle. This is possibly one of the worst moments in his life. Why is his dick still hard.

"You're lucky I came in first," Taeyong hisses, and then grabs at Mark, hoisting him onto his feet. "Why are you doing this in our _living room_ , in the middle of the day, have you both lost your minds? Manager-hyung is right behind me, he's grabbing something from the car."

All Johnny can think is that, yes, he has lost his mind. If he hadn't, he wouldn't be letting himself be pressed into Mark's mattress only five minutes later. Taeyong had gone back out into their hallway, asking their manager to take him out to lunch, stating he was starving all of a sudden. Johnny isn't sure what Taeyong thought they'd be doing in response to being granted extra time, but surely it wasn't this.

"You're not put off?" Johnny laughs, as Mark is tugging his jeans down.

"I want it more than ever," Mark admits, having the decency to blush a little, "I don't think I've ever wanted something this bad in my entire life? Get- hyung, get undressed."

He calms down a little when they're both naked, and pressed together. They make out for a while, lazily and wetly. Johnny breathes in shakily when Mark is lifting one of his legs over his hip and grinding into him, the position new for them.

"Whuh- what are you-?" he mutters, even though he already knows what this is. He hadn't imagined this for himself, but then, he hadn't imagined a single thing he's done with Mark. But he's wanted all of it, including this. He doesn't care what it might cost him, or what it says about him. He wants Mark.

They use Mark's lotion, and it hurts when Mark first pushes in. Johnny is doing his best to breathe through it, chest heaving, and he wonders who looks more ridiculous between the two of them. Mark is looking at him with bewildered eyes, his sweet mouth rounded out in an o.

Once the tension bleeds from Johnny, and his erection swells up again, Mark lets his fingertips brush over the definition of his chest and stomach, landing on his hips and keeping them in place as he starts pushing into him. It's awkward, and kind of uncomfortable, and yet it's good. Johnny allows his eyes to slide shut, his hand finding his cock and fisting it in time with Mark's thrusts. His body feels open, and deeply vulnerable. He can't believe Mark is inside of him, the intimacy of it making his mind reel, and turning him on. They speed up quickly, and Johnny bites back his moans, the side of his face pressing into the pillow.

They last under a minute, both of them silently coming on Johnny's stomach. He uses Mark's sleep shirt to wipe himself clean - it's their thing at this point - and they're forced to get dressed right after, because they can hear Jungwoo speaking to Taeyong in the living room, his voice sleepy but bright-sounding. Johnny feels frustration welling up. Now more than ever, he kind of wants to be cuddled. Was it okay that he had his first time like this, without any thought or planning put into it? That he just did it? It feels strange, after the fact. He's maybe freaking out a little.

But there's something in Mark's expression that puts him at ease, a mirrored sentiment, and he carries it with him as they go downstairs together, fingers briefly linking before they enter the living room. He keeps Mark in his periphery as he chats animatedly with the others, and feels a strange warmth blossom all over.

_Is this what being in love feels like_ , he thinks to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my favourite bad influence for writing bro Johnny and Mark with me, and thank you for reading it!! I love you all and want to thank not only god but also jesus -- Linnhe
> 
> linnhe and i write a lot of stuff for each other for shits and giggles, but we couldn't keep NARKY (mark and johnny, it's their shipnameshutupyesitis) under wraps for long. hope you enjoyed reading it at much as NARKY enjoyed each other. bronarky forever. -- anygay
> 
> I just want to state that I have never approved of calling this ship narky, and I never will. LISTEN it's so ugly why do u insist!!!! leave a better ship name for them in the comments tnx -- Linnhe
> 
> narkyyyyyyy~ *disappears into gay dust* -- anygay


End file.
